


Darkness before the Dawn

by Ladyfae (Ladysaille)



Series: Shadows Beckoning [9]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26807557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladysaille/pseuds/Ladyfae
Summary: Angel learns the nature of the Sword sworn, and Spike gets his girl.
Relationships: Angel/Willow Rosenberg, Spike/Original Female Character
Series: Shadows Beckoning [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845043
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Darkness before the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd all mistakes are mine.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters herein. They belong to BVTS and its creators Joss and WB. Don't hurt me for borrowing them. They needed to come out and play...  
> Those who may recall the original version of this story will know that it has gone off the rails. I hope you enjoy this new take.

Aria waited, why she wasn’t sure. All she knew was it had nothing to do with the bleach blond vampire tailing her. _Right it has nothing to do with him, that’s why there is currently a bag of blood under a stasis spell to maintain its freshness and temperature in your hotel room. You’ve never been one to lie to yourself don’t start now._ At the next corner, she drifted into the shadows. Spike, the blond, paused, glancing in each direction when he reached the intersection, before scenting the air with a deep breath.

Aria stepped out of hiding, raised her dirk hot edge to the vampire’s vulnerable throat. He raised his hands slowly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, pet, I can take the hint,” he said.

Aria lowered the blade. “What do you want, vampire?” she asked tiredly.

The vampire’s blue eyes held her gaze for a long moment. His pale flesh was luminous in the darkness. “You’ve had a long day,” Spike said.

Aria nodded warily. She had, and it didn’t appear to be getting over anytime soon.

“Maybe I could help you out.” Spike offered, biting his bottom lip, and giving her a look that sent a warm flush through her body. Beautiful and deadly in more ways than one.

“Spike,” she sighed, “I can’t call a person spike and take him seriously,” Aria said.

Spike watched her for a long moment. “You want my given name. You’ll have to earn it.”

Something in the way he spoke gave her a fair idea of how he expected her to earn it. Aria found herself smiling in return. He was going to be fun. His eyes changed, his expression going soft and enticing, as his gaze slid over her form. She went for comfort in worn jeans and a gauzy blouse, not exactly provocative clothing. She chuckled and walked down the street toward her hotel.

He watched her go, and when she glanced back, he hadn’t moved. Aria shook her head before calling. “Are you coming, vampire?”

He raised an eyebrow and flashed her a wicked grin. “Not yet.”

She pivoted to face the vampire. Whose blue eyes held an implicit challenge. Aria reached forward and pushed her palm to his chest. Silence, there was no beating heart beneath her sensitive fingertips. His hand came up and caught hers, holding it tighter to his chest. His touch was cool, but not frigid. He pulled her closer and leaned down, drawing in a slow breath.

_My God, what are you thinking?_

Her mouth opened, and Spike leaned closer, his lips nearly touching hers before she jerked away with a strangled gasp.

He cursed beneath his breath and followed when she took quick steps away from him. Frustration and hunger burned with surprising intensity in her gut. He was a horrible tease, she’d realized immediately, but she never expected to want him. The desire left her confused, and her gut uneasy.

Vampires were bad. She’d encountered them before and learned the strength of her own mettle because of a sadistic one. He’d enjoyed testing her accelerated healing ability, pushing it to its limits. His ultimate act was worst, draining the blood from her body, and then forcing his own dead blood into her, an attempt to bring her across. She shivered. His wasn’t a face she’d soon forget, but Spike was blonde and far more delicately made than her tormentor had been.

“Pet, wait up.” Spike caught her arm, and Aria turned, pushing him away with all her physical and magical strength. Spike gasped, landing in a heap a few feet away. Aria gasped.

“Shit!”

She knelt beside the vampire, worriedly checking him for injury. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. He lifted his head, and his blue eyes were intense in his pale face.

“I know a way you can make it up to me, pet.”

She looked at him uncomprehendingly, and Spike chuckled. He reached forward and pulled her toward him, catching her lips in a hungry kiss. Devouring her startled gasp, he drove his tongue into her mouth, taking with a surprising intensity for one who teased so lightly. Following the vampire’s lead, Aria whimpered, until the need to breathe forced her to pull away. Her fingers touched her tender lips, and she glanced at the vampire from beneath her lashes. His blue eyes were darker, and his body panted for unneeded breath.

*-*-*

I paused in the doorway to Willow’s ritual space. The tiny redhead sat in the lotus pose, hands resting palm up in the middle of four cubes of sooty black stone, one in each of the cardinal directions. In each hand, she held cylinders of a luminous white stone. Energy swirled around her, but to my enhanced sight, it appeared to be coming from the crystals. 

She was fresh from a shower, her hair still damp, waving slightly as it dried. Her slender form encased in gossamer fabric smelled clean and like spring flowers and rain. I shook away the thought. A familiar ache took up residence in my chest. Still, she was too finely made for the likes of me. I reminded myself. I had at least kept her in my life. Our relationship was strained but it at least no longer felt as if it were in ruins.

Angel,” she said.

The vivid green of her gaze caught my attention. Those eyes were so expressive, and currently, they held so much tenderness. I moved into the room, knelt in front of her. I was careful not to disturb her crystals. She laid the white stones down on the floor. Her hands came up, and my skin tingled when we touched. I leaned into the caresses, unable to do otherwise. No matter what we were, her touch was still a balm to my soul.

Her fingers traced my features before slipping into my hair. I fought against my body’s immediate response. I melted beneath such innocent touches. Her fingers massaged my scalp, and soft purrs slipped from my chest. Willow slid her right hand away. Moved the crystal that kept me at a distance out of the way, and before I could stop myself, I dragged her to me. She came willingly. Pressed against me from thigh to chest, she wrapped her body around me. She kept one hand in my hair, caressing my scalp, while the other massaged the nape of my neck. I leaned forward, rested my head against her shoulder. The soft purrs my body produced in response to her touch became low rumblings as calm descended.

“Like this,” I said, nuzzling against her throat. She seldom let me this close when awake. Asleep, she cuddled tight to my body, welcoming my touch. Understanding what was happening with my soul and demon in no way made the puzzle of my feelings for Willow any easier to deal with. Our relationship was one of complete comfort and understanding most of the time. Still, in what used to be rear moments, it would become kindling set to fire, and the hunger that burned through my soul and demon for this slip of a human would rage, and only putting distance between us helped.

*-*-*

“You pack quite a punch,” Spike said, glancing around the hotel room. It was sparsely furnished, and if the two saddle bags were all she brought with her, the woman traveled light. He smelled blood, not fresh, but still pleasant. Aria looked at him with an expression he couldn’t decipher. She pushed a warm mug into his hands.

“That’s not coffee,” she said, before grabbing her own mug.

“I assume that is?” Spike asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

She chuckled and lifted her mug up. “Cheers, English,” she said, a cheeky grin curving her lips.

“Hey now,” he said, realizing she’d decided on her own name since she found Spike to be ridiculous. “I don’t go around calling you American,” he groused.

She laughed again, and Spike shift, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. He was not to be trifled with. Even if she was quick with a blade. He was fast, faster.

“I’m Irish and Scottish,” she said. A slight burr worked its way into her words. “Besides, Spike sounds ridiculous, maybe if you were a porn-star.” There was nothing but teasing warmth in her voice, but Spike riled, raising a brow as she continued.

“You’d best be careful, pet, I earned that name,” he said, voice descending into a low growl. Insulted, unsettled, something in this woman pulled at him, some kind of magic, and she clearly hadn’t the sense to be wary.

“Right, years of death, torture, mayhem, and destruction. Aren’t you so impressive?”

He growled, smashing the mug against the hotel room's far wall. Aria blinked, but her face didn’t change in the slightest. Her scent remained calm. She sighed.

“You can leave anytime you like, Spike,” she said. She pushed herself off the chair and collected the bits and pieces of ceramic from where they fell. She dropped them into the trash next to the hotel room's desk.

That’s it. She simply dismissed him as unimportant and waited for him to realize he wasn’t worth her time. _Little, uppity cow. Too good to soil her perfect self with the likes of you._ He’d show her exactly how he earned that nickname. Tease him like that, and then just drop him. He studied her profile, imaging the screams before his mind went blank. Tugging deep in his gut, it began when he clapped eyes on her, and even angry, and craving violence it remained.

“I’m sorry,” he said begrudgingly. _God, you're whipped, and you’ve not even shagged the girl yet._

Aria looked back at him, from where she was cleaning the bloodstains from the wall. Her expression was curious, guarded. She dropped the damp paper towel into the wastebasket and moved to settle into the chair across from him. She curled her legs beneath her. She said nothing, and Spike fidgeted. He curled his fingers into the cheap hotel bedding next to his thighs. Waiting, was she doing it on purpose? Trying to make him go loony. Punishing for his lack of civility. He was a vampire, damn it. She knew that.

She drew in a deep breath and seemed to come to a decision, and Spike waited. Figuring that in a moment, he was going to be thrown out of the room. She reached out a hand, all pale flesh, and delicate bones. Her wrist was tiny, her hands small, fingers long and slender. “I’m Aria, and you are?”

Pretty petal wasn’t playing by the rules. She wasn’t supposed to extend the olive branch, and he was supposed to leave in a huff of indignation.

“William,” he answered without thought. He half wanted to pull the name back, what was he thinking. _Whipped._

“William,” she echoed, so soft and sweet, “A pleasure to meet you.” Her cheeks flushed a soft pink when he took her hand in his own and drew it to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to the back of it.

“Pleasures mine, trust me.”

She leaned forward, balancing precariously on the chair. Her lips gleamed in the low light as she wet them with the tip of her tongue. He hesitated, somehow certain that taking that sweetly offered sin would seal his fate. So close, he could feel her soft exhalations, Spike couldn’t resist, and closed the distance between them. Lips like warm silk smiled against his. A soft whimper escaped their joined mouths as Spike sought to learn every secret place within. Teeth, tongue, lips clinging. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, pulling him closer. _By the book indeed._

She drew back, gasping for breath, while Spike trailed his lips down her neck, tasting with his tongue, before nipping with dull teeth. She moaned, pressing closer. Spike swept her into his lap as her body swayed. _Things are looking up._ He slipped cool hands beneath her blouse. Soft, warm, she drew his mouth back to hers. Spike growled, kissing her more deeply. How had he forgotten the heat of a living, breathing female? Or how addictive it was to kiss someone.

*-*-*

Angel’s eyes were closed when I looked up at him. How long we cuddled on the floor, I had no idea. I just knew he needed it, as did I. Pins and needles shot through my thigh. My back ached, but I still didn’t want to move.

Angel shifted away from me, and I couldn’t stop the sound of disappointment from escaping my mouth. His fathomless dark eyes sought mine. His expression was almost mournful as he untangled our bodies. The air felt suddenly chilly as he took to his feet. I didn’t speak, feeling oddly bereft without him close. He moved with enviable ease. I tried not to stare, but something about how he moved always managed to catch my breath and leave my mouth uncomfortably dry.

I shifted, my thigh was still asleep, but feeling was slowly returning in fiery waves. Angel caught me as I stood and swept me up into his arms. I gasped, startled by the sudden movement. I wrapped my arms around his neck, snuggling into his body. I was so tired of pulling away when all I wanted was to be close. I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. He glanced at me. Those same endless eyes and I hide my face against his neck.

He cradled me against him and walked down the hall. Opening the door to his bedroom, he settled me on our bed. There was something different in the air tonight, I glanced toward the windows on the other side of the room, but the curtains were still tightly drawn. Usually, I changed in my room, but when Angel offered me one of his silk dress shirts, I took it. Our gazes caught over the dark red garment. The unmistakable heat in his eyes made warmth pooled in my stomach. He brushed the back of his hand along my cheek. His expression hard for me to read suddenly.

"Go get changed.”

I nodded but didn’t move.

“Willow?”

“Sorry,” I said, quickly disappearing into the bathroom. I glanced around his bathroom, avoiding the mirror. The reflection in the mirror was me, but my cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were too bright. Undressing quickly, I pulled the silk shirt over my head. I folded my ritual garb carefully. My toothbrush sat in the holder by the sink, at least. The process of brushing my teeth was familiar and eased my mind. When I finished, I entered the bedroom, and Angel slipped into the bathroom. I set my ritual garb on the low dresser. I glanced away. Something was unsettling about those items sitting on Angel’s dresser.

The sudden sound of the shower made me jump. I glanced at the closed bathroom door, wondering what I should do. Part of me wanted to crawl in the huge bed and find sleep before Angel left the shower. On the other hand, I was curious exactly what was happening. There was an electricity in the air tonight, as if something were waiting to happen, and it crackled when Angel looked at me.

The window seat seemed like a safer alternative than the bed. I opened the blackout curtains, unsurprised to find a book tucked into the cushions. The night sky was clear. The moon had just rose and cast a soft pale glow across the navy expanse. Stars twinkled in the distance. I rested my head against the glass and stared up at the sky, trying to calm my heart.

Angel exited the bathroom, silk sleep pants clinging to his still damp skin. I bit my lip. _God, he was beautiful._ His dark brown eyes were visibly lighter, clear proof of his duel nature. He watched me with an unreadable expression, gaze sweeping over my body. Only to remain on my bare legs. I forced myself to stay still. This man was the version of Angel that would remain. Balanced on the knifepoint between demon and soul. His eyes changed, a possessive gleam forming as he looked at me. I wore his clothes, and I was about the sleep in his bed, curled in his arms. Flustered, I tried for casual and looked back out the window.

A low rumbling sound that unfurled into an alluring laugh that filled the air. The sound curled around me and settled in the pit of my stomach. Heat bloomed in response. I stiffened, unsettled by my body’s response.

“What’s wrong, Willow?”

I wouldn’t look at him, kept my eyes on the darkness outside. There was something devastating about the hybrid version of Angel. The moon caught my attention again, and I wondered if he’d noticed what I had. I knew he feared Angelus somehow taking control, and to some degree, I did as well, not for myself, because for reasons I’d yet to understand, the demon wanted me as badly as Angel did. Moon bound the circle had made it clear that Angel only had some much time to attain this balance, and it was tied to the moon phase. As the moon grew, Angel had become more and more a combination of soul and demon, his eyes growing lighter, his actions shifting. His patience with me was infinite, but the desire that burned beneath it was more intense than felt by demon or soul separately.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I said finally. Though I wished to be back in my ritual space, selenite harmonizers in hand. This vampire made my body hum and my skin riot. I craved him, and it left me reeling.

*-*-*

Aria whimpered as the lithe vampire shifted. His body settled over hers, skin to skin, his hands moved with a kind of breathless certainty. As if he knew instinctively where and how she needed to be touched. She drew his mouth down to her own, desperate for another of those drugging kisses.

“William,” she said, arching against him. A soft moan followed as he trailed kisses down her arching neck and paid special homage to her pounding pulse. His erection teased against her drenched center. He caught her mouth in another hungry kiss, slipping a hand between their straining bodies.

“This what you want, luv?” he murmured against her lips. He teased her silky wet opening with his erection, rubbing from top to bottom, before pressing against her engorged clit. He parted her folds, sinking slowly into her warmth. She gasped, tensing involuntarily against his invasion. William froze above her, worried blue eyes seeking hers. He held still, trembling with the effort. Embarrassment flooded Aria, making her tense even more, and heat flush her entire body. She panted softly, fingers kneading against his shoulder. William pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “Want me to stop,” he asked in a strangled tone.

“No,” Aria managed, “Just wait.” She wanted him. Her body just wasn’t cooperating with her. He nodded once and lifted himself upward, slipping from inside her. She whined softly, and William quieted her gently. He trailed kisses, tender and sweet, teasing kisses over her neck and shoulders, before cupping one breast and gently caressing the nipple. He covered the hardened little bud with his mouth, stroking against it with his tongue.

She gasped, arching into his touch. His hand slid down to the nest of red-gold curls between her thighs and stroked her clit. “Oh… Oh…,” her voice broke as William continued gently massaging and circling the cluster of nerves.

“That’s it, luv, let me take care of you,” he said against her throat. “Lovely fire goddess, so sweet, so mine,” his voice kept speaking soft words between tender kisses and teasing nips. His lips slid down her body, his voice drifting away, but he kept talking, Shakespeare, she realized, though the bard's words had never made her body clench with pleasure, as they did as William whispered about her fair beauty against the curve of her navel.

“God, you do smell good.” He growled, and Aria’s eyes flew open. His blond head was between her thighs, his long fingers poised to touch. She pushed herself up onto her elbow, watching as his long fingers carefully parted her engorged folds, exposing her clit.

“Will…” she gasped as he lowered his head and lapped at her. He purred, a low pleased sound that tore a startled cry from her. His tongue, long and agile, sank deep into her, seeking more of her wetness. He stroked and teased, making low rumbling noises all the while. Aria grasped at his shoulder, hands catching in his short locks as he pushed her toward release.

“William!” Her body quivered, inner muscle clamping down hard on the fingers he buried deeply inside her. He moaned, lapping up the new rush of wetness with avid hunger. He kept at his task, tongue, and fingers taking her through the violent release crashing over her body. He crawled up her trembling form and captured her lip in a heedless kiss. She moaned, arching against him, welcoming his weight. He stared down at her for a long moment. The questions clear in his gaze, and Aria nodded, shifting her hips, and canting them forward.

She slipped her hand between them and carefully encircled his length. He was thick, heavy, and warmed by her body. She bit her bottom lip, rubbing him against her slick opening. Closing her eyes against the myriad of sensations, she forced the broad head of his erection into her body. William hissed, his hands settled on her hips, lifting her toward him. He sank deeper into her tender channel.

“William,” she whispered, “Please.”

He nodded, keeping his movements small, sinking into her gradually, teasingly. She whimpered, hiding her face in his neck. The sensations were so shockingly good that Aria had to remember to breathe. The grasp on her hips tightened, and William stopped all motion. She looked up at him. He leaned down and caught her mouth in a fierce kiss. Urging her into a slightly different position, he suddenly sank as deep as he could on the next thrust. She jerked her mouth from his, crying out and clutching his shoulders.

William stilled, staring down at her, concern on his taunt features. He searched her face for discomfort, but only desire stared back at him from the depths of those lovely eyes. The liquid fire of her wrapped so tightly around his length, he feared harming her. He drew in a slow breath and captured her lips in a gentle kiss.

The pull, the tugging that had made him follow her in the first place, was still there, humming along with the hunger deep in his gut. _Make her come, make her want you, make her never leave you._ He moved, slow, steady, wanting to hear her sharp little pants turn into desperate cries. He thrust deep, languid, as if he had all the time in the world to drive her mad. 

“So hot,” he moaned, “so tight,” He caught her mouth again, thrusting his tongue into the warm dark recesses, echoing the steady motion of his cock.

“Please,” she begged, offering him her throat.

William groaned, caught between heaven and hell. Freely given blood was something precious and treated with reverence. His fangs dropped, and his face shifted. William quickened his pace, driving her steadily toward shattering release.

His fangs grazed her neck, teasing. Her orgasm hit her as his fangs slid suddenly, deeply into her throat. The first lush mouthful pushed William over the edge after her. He withdrew his fangs and continued to lap at the sluggishly bleeding punctures until they closed.

William rested against her as she caught her breath. Her blood was fire and magic and solace, he hadn’t known he needed. For a moment, William felt complete.

*-*-*

It wasn’t enough. That I had convinced myself that it would be proved the true depths of my self-delusion. Yet, I was standing here thinking of all the ways I could use to keep her with me as long as possible. Ways that Giles and Buffy and Xander would definitely not approve of. The problem was our earlier embrace only fueled my need for her. The first time in weeks, I held her outside of sleep, and I wanted more. 

The sight of her dressed in my silk shirt made my mouth water. The possessive hunger she stirred so easily raged in response. What was I thinking, giving her that shirt? The burgundy fabric hung past her hips. The collar was too large, but she’d buttoned it to the very top. Her discomfort continued to permeate the air. “What’s wrong,” I asked again. She hadn’t seemed upset earlier while in the ritual space, so I doubted our closeness was bothering her.

She sighed and unfolded herself from the window seat. She crossed the room, an odd expression on her face, sad, worried, apprehensive. “Just thinking.” She said.

She reached out, and her hand stopped just short of touching, but I felt the heat of her hovering. Too easy to take what I wanted — to take her. I took her hand in mine, palm to palm, our finger sliding against and finally between locking our hands together. So tiny, warm, fragile, and yet there was strength there too. The bond between us was weak, near to breaking, and once she would have welcomed its resurgence. Tonight, now, I couldn’t ask for such intimacy. She slept in my bed, but we were not lovers, and might never be lovers.

“Angel,” she said my name so softly.

“Yes.”

Those lovely green eyes shimmered, and she glanced away from me. Her nervousness was palpable. Had something changed that I was unaware of? Our clasped hands caught her attention.

“Do you…” she began.

She looked at me, her eyes full of warmth. I offered an encouraging smile, waiting for her to finish. When she remained silent, I coaxed. “Do I?”

Her cheeks flushed.

“Want to come with me and meet Aria tomorrow evening?” I didn’t think that was her intended question, but I was pleased by the prospect of inclusion. I had yet to meet the sword mistress that was teaching Willow about the blade and its powers. I craved that, wanted to know this aspect of her life, and I hadn’t wanted to force my way in.

“If you wish,” I said, keeping my voice calm.

She squeezed my hand. “I do.”

She shifted, fidgeting. “Willow?” She was antsy, but I wasn’t sure I understood why.

“Sorry, full moon.” She said, gesturing out the window.

I nodded. The moon made my witch a bit hyper, I’d noticed, though I didn’t understand it.

"Isn’t it early for you?” she asked.

It was, and I smiled a bit sheepishly. It was Willow’s bedtime, but it wasn’t mine, not yet. “I want to hold you,” I admitted. The need to touch and be touched was stronger tonight. Maybe Willow wasn’t the only one feeling the moon.

“Me too,” she said after a moment. Voice so soft I wasn’t sure I heard it. Her color was pleasantly high, and the bond between us weak as it was held only acceptance.

I crossed to the bed, keeping her hand in mine. I didn’t relinquish my hold as I pulled the blanket back and helped Willow onto the bed. She squeezed my hand, and I reluctantly let go. She settled in the middle of the bed. I slipped in beside her, sighed in contentment when she curled against me. She draped one silk clad arm over my chest and settled one of her bare legs over mine and snuggled close. I kissed the top of her head, finally at ease.

She kissed my shoulder. I glanced down at her. My skin rioted as she traced patterns into my skin with one delicate fingertip. I caught that wondering hand and drew it to my lips. I studied her lovely green eyes, delicate bone structure, red hair and brows, a sweet bow of a mouth that begged for kisses. Her eyes were worried.

“You look worried,” I said, tangling my fingers in her hair.

“I love you,” she blurted. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Where am I going?”

She rested her forehead against my shoulder, and I carded my fingers through her hair.

“I have to tell you something.” She sounded so unsure.

“Whatever it is, it will be alright, Willow,” I said. I shouldn’t make such promises, especially not on the Hellmouth. It might not be alright.

“Sword sworn, stop aging.”

I blinked in confusion. Stop aging?

“What?”

“Sword Sworn, stop aging.” She said again.

Oh gods, Willow. “You’re sure?” I asked. My mind traveling in useless circles. _I can keep her. I can keep her._

“Yes, Aria is older than you.”

I was silent, torn. She was going to be around so much longer than I had ever dared to hope. I could keep her. The idea left me euphoric, and yet, saddened. Immortality was a double-edged blade.

“Sweetheart,” I whispered. How did she feel about it? “Are you okay with this?” I wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, not really.

She snuggled closer. “I think so, I’m not yet,” she said. “I have time. It can wait.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The blade, bonding to it, is what changes us. A magical side effect.” She bit her bottom lip. “Until then, I’m just the same old run-of-the-mill Willow.”

God, she had a choice. It was on the tip of my tongue to forbid her to do it. _Not your choice, vampire._

“Willow,” my voice shook as I spoke. I’d leave her now, rather than watch her throw her mortal life away for me. It wasn’t lost on me how ridiculous the thought was. I’d been plotting ways to keep her, and now that I could, I was planning ways to leave her. Gods, but I was confused.

“Don’t do this because of me.” Tell her you don’t love her, don’t want her, need her. Lies, it would be all terrible lies, and yet those lies might save her mortal life.

She laughed. The sound so surprising, I just blinked at her. “You are so full of shit.”

I gaped at her.

“You want me until you can not only have me but keep me, then you don’t anymore.”

Was she out of her mind, not want her?

“Willow,” I said.

“Don’t try to be the selfless one here. It doesn’t become you.”

“Yes, I want you, I just don’t want to be the reason why you do this.”

She leaned over me and kissed my mouth fleetingly. “Good thing, it has nothing to do with you.”

“You can’t expect me to believe that?” I demanded.

She laid back down, stared up at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter what you believe. I touched the blade. Woke the magick, there is no turning back, the only way is forward.”

“Willow,” I said, still unsure.

“You need to decide what you want.” She twisted over me again and pressed another tender kiss to my lips. “I love you. All of you.” She smiled.

She snuggled into my side again. Her breathing and heartbeat slowed as sleep claimed her. I doubted I’d sleep for a while, but I was not willing to move yet.


End file.
